I Love You
by AnneG1
Summary: Set some time after the season finale. Dawson's trying to move on, but its made harder by an unexpected death and Joey's adoration of him.


Part one Rating: R Summary: Fate brings Dawson and Joey together again. ________________________________________________________________________ With patience, love will come to you.--Jen Lindley, 1983-2008 ~~Dawson~~ When Joey floated out of my romantic spectrum into Pacey's arms for what definitely looked like the final time, I picked myself up, dusted myself off and hopped on a plane straight to L.A, with the knowledge that I at least had a soul mate. The show was a success; even I who hates to think anything I do will turn out well these days have admitted it was a great success. It became the 'water cooler' show. People would talk about it the next day. It's strange to think I've made it, not as a director but as a writer. I have a lot to say, though, and a lot of stories to tell. I quit writing "The Creek" after a two year run but I remained advisor over the storylines. I wrote screenplays instead and it was cool to note that three of them turned out to be kinda.big. One was a thriller about four friends, two of whom disappear one Fourth of July, the other was a drama about a seemingly soulless man who falls for his best friend's wife. Ends in tragedy, of course. The third and latest screenplay was a contemporary piece about two best friends (both male this time) who battle it out over a girl over a period of fifteen years. Was one of the choices at Sundance. Biographical.of course. I directed that one, and I did pretty well, but I realize now I prefer writing. The funny thing is, Joey became a writer too. She started to write short stories, poetry, and then novels. Her first novel she dedicated to me- "To Dawson, my soul mate." That touched me in ways I never had imagined. We didn't see each other all the time, sometimes we would go a month without talking, but we knew what we meant to each other. We would spend hours on the phone at night, discussing plots and ideas and inspirations. She'd beg me to come to New York, and I would ask her to come to L.A, and whenever we could, we would. "I love you,' she never failed to tell me on the phone. I would say it back and then be asked by my co-workers who the hell I was dating. It was hard trying to explain to people out here the relationship Joey and I had. She wasn't my girlfriend; we were a bit more than best friends however. We weren't like brother and sister because that thought makes me shudder, (besides, we've been intimate so that would be kind of wrong) so.she was something above and beyond that. What I realize now is that I was in love with her. Never mind the fact I fell for another woman-an actress-and we lived together for a year. I was in love with Joey. But it was a love I couldn't physically do something about. Joey was in my heart, my mind, but not my bed, and therefore I ignored it. Loretta was a good-natured actress with honey-blonde hair and amazing green eyes. She was friends with the likes of Kirsten Dunst. We had actually met years before when I was having a fling with Natasha-one of her early films was the one I shot in Boston. Our relationship started when we met up at a party-I was there with fellow writer/director Roger Avery and his posse, and our eyes met over the indoor pool. I actually never thought a beautiful, talented actress who had been involved with guys like Paul Walker would ever be interested in a screenplay writer from Capeside, Massachusetts. But we clicked almost instantly. She had amazing depth to her, depth some actor guys probably didn't get. We spent that night talking in the garden until 3am, the next night we went out for Pizza and then we had sex at my place all night long.  
  
She was the first woman who took my mind completely off Joey. Everything about her was perfect.and she had the most incredible breasts. Joey's were better but Loretta's were still amazing. I think my bias towards Joey had to do with the fact I was in love with her and I hated it. I really did. I would actually feel shots of pain whenever I thought about her and Pacey, together. I wished I could turn on and off like a TV, but alas, my emotions have been known to stand the test of time. Within a month we were convinced we were in love, and maybe we were. Within two months she had partially moved in with me in my apartment in Santa Monica. Our relationship actually reached the tabloids after we showed up together at the Oscars where Loretta's latest film had been nominated for best picture. And though I had told Joey we were involved, she was still surprised to find a picture of Loretta and I kissing on Rodeo Drive in People magazine. "Its not like you flip through People and see your best friend in the back pages everyday," she had told me on the phone in amazement. Audrey cut it out and framed it. Loretta and Joey actually got along really well. They shared the same values, ambition drive, disposition.and man. Loretta actually admitted to me once she was jealous of Joey's intimacy and past with me, but that she was such a 'wonder' she didn't care and she'd have a threesome with us any day. This was on New Years and she had had some to drink but don't think I didn't enjoy hearing that. Joey heard it later on and just went pink in that cute way of hers. Despite their similarities they were very different in bed. I didn't spend a lot of time in bed with Joey, but four times in less than 24 hours granted enough memory for me to not see her as a sister, and to remember her graceful, urgent movements compared to Loretta's confident, choreographed moves. Loretta was also daring and curious, but sweetly so. She was openly jealous, unlike Joey who was a closed, complicated book when it came to being envious. Loretta would ask me about my former lovers, my ex-girlfriends, and my past sexual experiences. She pronounced Jen her role model for, quote, 'taking the first damn move.' She was most interested in my night with Joey, which was kind of weird for me to talk about, so I didn't. Loretta had no idea I was still in love with her of course. Joey to her was a legendary figure of sorts, my best friend, 'the one who got away.' Loretta had met Pacey and liked him, and she and Pacey had actually flirted on a double date in Manhattan. Joey and I hadn't noticed, however, we were in our own little world. A weird thing happened later that evening, though. We were chilling in our Plaza hotel room, sharing drinks and swapping stories with Pacey and Joey. Pacey had had too much to drink and he passed out on the couch in the living room, and so Joey joined Loretta and I out on the balcony. We all shared a bottle of champagne and discussed the merits of the art scene in New York against Los Angeles. Joey then started to get dizzy, so Loretta and I helped her onto our bed. The hotel room was big enough so we all could sleep somewhere comfortable-ahh the wonders of drink. We were adjusting Joey's head on the pillow when she reached up to touch my face. Loretta had giggled a little, and pulled the blanket up over Joey's legs. That was when Joey opened her eyes and kissed me, just like in high school, but this kiss was far more racy. She practically thrust her tongue into my mouth before giving me a lingering kiss where our teeth knocked. It was sexy and I reacted immediately, but pulled away almost as quickly, my face bright red. Joey looked at me for a second through tired, slit eyes, then rolled over and closed her eyes. Loretta just laughed again. Was she drunk? Probably. "I guess when Joey wants something, she goes for it," Loretta murmured to me, trying to slip her hand in my jeans. It was all too weird for me so I gently guided Loretta into the living room and sat her down. I was reeling from my own thoughts. If.something had happened, if Loretta had been more ambitious, if Joey had stayed awake, if we'd drunk more.if it had *happened* I was ashamed to realize I would have probably concentrated on Joey alone. When we woke the next day they were gone, but they had left a thank you note. Joey and I didn't talk about the kiss until years later. After almost a year together, Loretta started to finally figure me out. "I know you're not in love with me," she finally told me on a quiet Sunday night when we were watching movies peacefully. "What?" I exclaimed, taking my arm off her. "That's bull." "You're in love with someone else," she told me gently, as if I didn't know. "And while it was fun pretending you loved me back, I can't do it anymore." She was sweet about it, understanding. Just gorgeous. It made me want to love her even more. "Look, why don't you tell her?" she suggested a bit while on after I had failed to convince her I wasn't in love with Joey. "That is out of the question. There's no point. She made her decision." "Yeah.two years ago. Things change all the time. Look-pick up the phone." She picked it up for me. "Call her." I knocked it out of her hand gently. I was upset about her leaving-distraught, actually. It was a break-up, after all, no matter how friendly we were to each other. "So being in love with Joey brands me unlovable?" I had asked her in desperation one night. "Why can't it go away?" We still had sex after we broke up. The sex couldn't just filter away like the love could. She would turn up at my place usually after midnight, tipsy, or very sober, and we'd have wild sex on the floor or against a wall or something extremely venturous. Things I wanted to do to Joey. But the sex stopped. She found a boyfriend, and I started to date again, this time keeping Joey out of it. Joey didn't have to know about everyone I saw. Loretta and I parted well, and to this day she remains a very dear friend. After the drunken kiss, Joey and I didn't talk as much as we used to. Out of embarrassment, probably, and shame, for me, for enjoying the kiss. I couldn't talk to her, knowing by loving her she was infecting me, infecting my life. I had a nightmare that Joey was dangling off a cliff, and I was holding her, and staring into her eyes, and I was so enraptured by her eyes I let go of her and she crashed on the rocks below. I woke up in a bad state, and sat by my window overlooking the lights of L.A, smoking the first of six Camel lights Loretta had left behind. ~~Joey~~ Pacey and I lived peacefully together for two and a half years.right up until he asked me to marry him. Me, typically being afraid of commitment, freaked. I didn't think I would freak over marrying Pacey, but I did. I shocked myself, and I ran. I was always running. Once, I convinced myself I was running from Pacey. But I had never run from him. I had always run to him, with open arms. I had run from Dawson my entire life and by telling myself I had run from Pacey I was yet again running from Dawson. Our love was too strong for me to cope with. Pacey offered me stability, and I, in turn, offered him security. This is, like most stories, the story of a boy and a girl. They meant so much to each other, but their journey was so long, and so painful, it sometimes seemed the boy and the girl would lose each other. This boy and girl weren't like any ordinary boy and girl. At best lovers, at worst, just best friends, at all times soul mates, their lives were an endless stretch of mistakes, love and laughter. What did we mean to each other, really? What *were* we? Where were we? Was all the talk a mask? Once the mask was stripped away, was there anything left? I see now, at thirty, that this boy, this man, was my other half. That when I was born, some months after him, some force created our bond. I felt alone and empty without him. The months spent not talking to him-the year I was with Pacey, the year I was with Eddie, were the most exciting yet miserable and confusing times of my life. I see now that Dawson and I were the classic heroes of bad timing. Maybe that's what prompted the weekend in Boston. Finally, fate led a hand and we were brought together, no questions, no commitments, and no betrayal. Sometimes when I look at him, he takes my breath away. So charismatic, passionate, thoughtful.when our eyes meet his mouth stretches into a secret smile, our eyes flash and we don't even need to use words. Its fair to say the older we get, the longer I know Dawson, the more I love about him. I loved him when he was a 'geeky' adolescent Steven Spielberg wannabe with floppy blonde hair and a goofy smile, and I loved him when he was an older, slightly embittered man but with no less the dreams he had when he was fifteen. Now I love him as a successful man with creativity, ambition and drive, with sensitivity, humor, and peace, with hands that touch me and heal me. After Jen's funeral, we kept in touch via any means necessary-the telephone- long chats into the night, or quick calls during the day; e-mail and postcards from wherever we were. Dawson sent me more than I did him, because I didn't really leave Manhattan. He went all over the place, though- London, Madrid, Venice.I envied his freedom. I went to see him in L.A, sometimes with Pacey, sometimes without. We were star struck by his friends, his apartment in Santa Monica, and his constantly ringing cell phone. He was happy and comfortable, but told us he missed the east coast. On one particular visit, a year and a half before Pacey and I broke up, Dawson introduced us to Loretta, an actress he had fallen in love with. She had been a successful teen actress and was taking serious, sought after roles by the time she and Dawson started dating. I admired Loretta and I enjoyed her company, but I was extremely jealous of her and deep down in me, I think I hated her. She was everything I wasn't. Blonde and outgoing, but not plastic or shallow-intelligent, curious.a Harvard degree she fit in between Oscar ceremonies and parties with Toby Maguire. She and Dawson were perfect together. They sizzled, they sparked, and they were all about laughing, sex and life. I expected him to call me any day and say-"We're getting married" I both dreaded and waited in anticipation for his phone calls. The night we all got drunk at the Plaza was a night I'll never forget for its potent strangeness. First, Pacey had passed out. Then the three of us had talked on the balcony and had champagne, all of us buzzing, laughing, and flirting. We were on fire. We talked about some arts nonsense, and then of course.sex. Loretta and I did, anyway. Dawson would get up and pee or get more drinks and that's when we'd talk. The weirdest thing is.there was a mild attraction between Loretta and I. She was so.beautiful. I was in awe of her. And she told me on many occasions she was genuinely 'fond' of me. She had even told me she wanted to have a threesome with Dawson and me. She had been drunk, but she was probably serious. I had been completely shocked-not by the fact she had told me but by the fact such a notion could indeed be possible, and guiltily, I engaged in that fantasy on more than one occasion. That night, it could have happened. The fine line was there. I had been dizzy yes, but after lying on the bed, my dizziness wafted away only to be replaced by a hotheaded feeling, which concluded with me sticking my tongue in Dawson's mouth. When one is drunk one tends to think one has an excuse to do wild things like that. The kiss was incredibly ardent and sexy. With that one kiss, I could feel him sliding inside me, could feel us making love. We stared at each other, and somewhere in my vicinity I could hear Loretta giggling, a throaty giggle. She smiled at me, curling her lips up deliciously, slyly. Suddenly overcome, I turned away, closed my eyes and feigned sleep. There was a rustle, she giggled again, and I heard an unzipping. Oh god.please no."I guess when Joey wants something, she goes for it.' Loretta murmured, and Dawson sighed, "Come on." and they went out of the room. Pacey and I left the next morning, early, at my asking. "That was fun," he said dully, still suffering from a hangover. "Yeah," I sighed. Our communication waned after that. I was embarrassed. I had *kissed* him. In front of his girlfriend. who knows what could have happened? I had never been attracted to another woman. Audrey told me it was normal, it was biology, it was *science* to be sexually attracted to another being, no matter what sex they are. But if Loretta had.wanted us to.you know.well, I wouldn't have been able to. I would have been busy with Dawson alone. It was a night to top all nights where I surprised myself. Dawson and I didn't speak for a long time after that, although I desperately wanted to. I wanted to talk to him about Pacey. I know it was a little strange for him to talk about Pacey but he did anyway-and he always knew what to say. Pacey and I were suffering in our own skin. He was angry with me for thinking about Dawson, 'too much,' and he was angry at my commitment to my career. He wanted to move back to Boston. For now, we were peaceful-he was checking things out-and I hoped to god he would re-think the Boston thing. After a whirlwind weekend in the Hamptons with Audrey, I returned to an empty apartment (Pacey was in Boston) and a blinking red light on my answering machine. "Joey.it's me.Dawson." His warm chuckle made me smile. My hand lingered on the hall table. Maybe he was coming up to New York. he had recently been in China with some director friends of his, co-producing a film about Tiananmen square. "You're not going to believe this. But.I'm engaged.' Distantly, a taxi honked loudly outside my window, but I didn't notice. "She's incredible. Her name's Alice. An actress.well, part-time. She does a lot of things. Her mother was a freedom fighter in China in the 80's. Her father is American. Anyway, I'm bringing her to New York to meet you.you're meeting her before my mother is!" he laughed. I was clutching the table now. "I miss you." He said it quietly, and my knees trembled. "Tell Pacey I said hi." I deleted the message before he could say anything else. Unsteadily, I walked into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water. **** To Be Continued Part 2 ________________________________________________________________________ ~~Dawson~~ Two years later Sometimes I don't know how I have the will to go on. I was only twenty-six, and I had lost three people I dearly loved. My dad. Jen.and Alice. Now, at twenty-eight, its still hard for me to talk about any of those deaths. I like to think they are still around. Some directors and producers have approached me about making a movie about it. Can you imagine? I declined. There wasn't an official investigation, but American authorities chalk it up as an accident, although Alice's mother apparently had enemies in China, people who didn't like her fighting against the government. A speeding car hit both her and her mother as they were walking across the street. So fleeting was our relationship, so good to be true, it was almost as if her death was bound to happen. I was at work when I got the phone call from her father. The funeral was in L.A. Joey was there, holding my hand, climbing into bed with me to hold me until I fell asleep, making me dinner. She was a godsend. I valued her friendship at the time, but so caught up in my grief I didn't realize she was going through her own. She tells me now she was brokenhearted about me, unsure if I would ever need her, if she would ever understand what I was going through. She took me to New York City. On the fourth night, I went out drinking with some L.A people. I managed to find my way back, but I had dropped my key in a drain somewhere, so I had woken her up by banging on the door. When she answered in her dressing gown, her nipples outlining the thin material, her face a mix of worry and amusement, I just.lost it. For so long I had wanted her. Then Alice had taken my mind of it but she was gone. Joey steered me in, and the touch of her hand on my shoulder impulsed me to do something.really stupid. "I still loved you.' I blurted out. "Right up until Alice.went." I held her tightly, sinking to my knees to press my face into her stomach. She traced her fingers through my hair, and knelt down with me, kissing me all over my face, her urgency potent in her kiss. I lifted her up, and we yanked at our clothes, and we ended up against the wall, one of her legs wrapped around me, pounding out our grief, our love. I knew she was making love to me to make me forget. But I didn't care. For the first time in a long, long time, Joey was calling out my name in a frenzy, I was inside her, she was kissing me.she was doing things to me I only dreamed of her doing. And it worked. I forgot, if only for an hour. I left early the next morning for Capeside and did something even stupider-- I got sick-Some rare form of Phenomena, and I was sicker than I had ever been before. From guilt? Guilt of what Joey and I had done that week? My body defense had been weak in my grief. I was stupid enough to walk several miles in the cold January rain whilst visiting my mom in Capeside, and the next day.I just.didn't get up. I don't remember much about the three weeks I was sick, just hallucinations and feeling as if my body was on fire. One day I opened my eyes to see familiar hazel eyes staring down at me. "Joey." I said-well, more like croaked. "Dawson." She touched my face, my neck, and her cool hand spread ice into me, soothing me. I then embarrassed myself by falling asleep. For that period of time I thought I was still in my bed, but I had been transferred to the hospital. Mom told me later that Joey sometimes spent the night in the hospital room, once, cuddled up to me on my bed. She actually thought I was going to die.I laugh now, thinking that in the first two weeks I wanted to die. But in the third, I realized I would never have let myself die, if only because I didn't want Joey or my mother to have to lose someone else. The third week, when my fever broke, she went back to New York-at my mother's suggestion. Apparently Pacey wasn't coping with the time Joey spent with me, and he was also (as he tells me now) terrified I would die and he wouldn't know what to do, what to say. It took me a while to get all my strength back. Mom and Lily looked after me, and I slowly built it up, jogging, eating right, doing weights, doing anything to get my mind off Alice, off Joey, off Jen, off Dad. Some friends in L.A asked me to go with them to London to shoot a movie and I accepted, and I ended up spending six months in Europe. It was a mending period for me. I co-directed, I traveled; I made love to other women. I pushed Alice to the back of my mind. She remained there, a constant reminder of something wonderful, of something perfect I almost had. The other reminder of something perfect I almost had but never got was the phone call from Joey. "Please come home," Joey said quietly. "I want you here." "Why.Joey.is everything okay?" I leaned forward, pressing the phone to my other ear. "Not exactly." her voice caught and I realized with a start she was crying. I had been with Joey many times when she cried, but not over the phone. It broke my heart I couldn't hold her. "Is it.Pacey?" he asked cautiously. "Among other things," she admitted meekly. That night I booked a flight to New York City and left the following morning. ~~Joey~~ When I met Alice, the floor felt like it would go out from underneath me. Because I realized that-who was I kidding? I wasn't Dawson's soul mate. Alice was. She was perfect-wonderful. Beautiful, with long, raven black hair, eyes that seemed to bore right into you, and so much intelligence and passion I felt like.like.Britney Spears. Now I shake my head, ashamed I had had such thoughts about her.and not just because she's dead, but because I was acting fickle and narrow minded. She hugged me straight away-"I can't believe I'm finally meeting you," she said, and I was surprised to notice she had an American accent, a soft one, but an American one. She was exciting too, talking about her life-her mother's life, her parents meeting in San Francisco twenty-four years ago, acting, performing. she was a remarkable woman and Dawson was totally in love with her. He held her hand whenever we went out, he kissed her constantly, and he just. glowed. It was at once wonderful and painful to see Dawson so in love. Surely, what we had paled in comparison. Everyone was dazzled by Alice. Pacey always tried to sit next to her at tables or couches, and pressed her for more stories; Audrey and Alice had private jokes between them from day one, and Alice and Jack connected almost instantly. When we heard about the death, we all arranged to fly out to L.A almost immediately, not just to be support Dawson but also to honor an amazing woman. When he asked me what I thought of Alice, telling me, whilst holding my hand that I was the most important person to him, and that he valued my opinion, I told him what I honestly thought."She's amazing." And he smiled. "So.when do you think you and Pacey will get hitched." he left it open. I just smiled mysteriously and shrugged. Why bother to tell him that I was beginning to grow restless with Pacey? Pacey and I had just had one of our defining arguments when my cell rang- Dawson. He sounded distant, like he was watching a movie as he talked to me- "Joey.' I could hear rain in the background. "Dawson?" Pacey rolled his eyes and slammed into the bedroom. "Joey, Alice is dead." I had to grab the wall. "What?" I said shakily. "She and her mom got.run over. In China." He was obviously in shock, and was having trouble piecing the words together. "Where are you?" I said urgently. Pacey came out of the bedroom after hearing the tone of my voice, his brow furrowed with curiosity. "In L.A. the funeral is Thursday. Her father's organizing it." "I'll be there tomorrow, Dawson," I said quickly. "Please.take something, go to bed, or call your mom, you can't be alone right now." I begged him. "Okay." He sighed, and for a split second he sounded like himself. He then put the phone down and "Okay." He sighed, and for a split second he sounded like himself. He then put the phone down and I listened to the dial for a few moments, completely entrenched. "Joey?" Pacey ventured. I put the phone on the counter and turned to him, taking a deep, shuddering breath. "Alice is dead." "Shit." **** I was in California by 5pm the next day, and I stayed the entire week. Pacey flew up a few days later with Jack and Audrey, all of them shocked and distraught not just about Alice but for Dawson, who had already had to lose a father, and now.a fiancée. I was like a support machine, cooking for him, holding his hand, comforting him at night when he couldn't sleep. What best friends do. But could I deny that I was working like clockwork because I was so ashamed, so remorseful I could barely stand it? I also couldn't stand seeing Dawson so heartbroken. How could I ever know how he felt? How could I ever understand? When his father had died I knew how he felt because my mom had died too. We weren't that different in that respect. But I have never lost a lover. After Alice's funeral, I took Dawson back to New York with me. Pacey was in Boston looking around for job opportunities, so I insisted we share a bed, but Dawson opted for the couch. He had always been the strong one.stronger than Pacey, stronger than me. He allowed me to drag him around the city, we saw a few movies, we ate burgers with Audrey, we took long walks through Central Park and Dawson told me he wouldn't mind living here one day. He also ventured away from my watchful eye, going out for drinks with some L.A friends of his who happened to know Audrey as well. And so it happened. That whilst Pacey was in Boston, Dawson knocked on my apartment door at midnight, having misplaced the spare key, and I had answered in my dressing gown, concerned and dubious at the same time. His hair was ruffled, his eyes were ablaze and he was almost certainly drunk-or tipsy, I couldn't tell. "Joey." He said hoarsely, and I ushered him in, shutting the door behind him. "I still loved you." He told me simply, "Right up until Alice.went." he pressed his head into my stomach and I could feel his tears. Desperate for each other, we didn't even remove most of our clothes, he yanked down his pants and I threw off my dressing gown, and we joined in the unholy way against the smooth white wall of the apartment, too hurried to find a bed or a flat surface. Part of me knew I made love to him so he could forget his pain, if only for a few moments. Just seeing his face constrict with pleasure. the other part of me knew I made love to him because I damn well wanted to. We made it to the bed and had desperate, urgent, and loving sex all night. Sex with your soul mate is like going to heaven. At least, from what I know of it. Not only were we getting and giving pleasure, but also we were joined, we were expressing everything we wanted to say but couldn't. I cried afterwards, overwhelmed by such strong feelings, until exhausted, I fell asleep around 4am. When I woke up, he was gone. No note. Just his tears on my pillow. **** On a rainy April day in Manhattan, Pacey and I sat down and undid two years of love, adoration, plans and passion. It was over. I was heartbroken.I had wanted it to work so badly. I was so sure about choosing him, that the possibility of it not working out seemed preposterous. But I couldn't be with him, not now, not after making love to Dawson. He moved to Boston shortly afterwards, and for the first time in almost eight years, I was single. I took a deep breath and dialed Dawson's London number. We hadn't seen each other since he had come down with Pneumonia, almost scaring me half to death. I thought I'd never see him again. He surprised me by coming to New York City, but the memories were too much for him and he left not soon after. And so for almost two years, we didn't speak. And then one weekend I was sent to Boston to meet with editors. Little did I know, this weekend would be a defining time in my life. TO BE CONTINUED part 3 Joey was annoyed she hadn't brought an umbrella, but she hadn't bothered to check the forecast and didn't know it would be raining all weekend in Boston. She braved the rain on the sidewalk outside the office building and thought about just running back to her hotel room--but then decided she'd catch a cab instead. Frizzy hair was not going to be in the cards! She was in Boston that weekend for a publishing conference. At first she had been weary to go. Boston held so many memories, memories she didn't want to drag up again. And Pacey lived there. It wasn't like they didn't talk--in fact they were friends, but it was still uncomfortable. Joey preferred New York's business and anonymity, where she could blend in and think about things other than failed relationships and the ghosts of boyfriends past. She managed to get a cab, and instructed him to the Grand Hotel downtown. She was tired from talking all afternoon. Once she was in the hotel she made a detour for the hotel bar and restaurant, where she ordered herself a martini. She had plans to go out for dinner with some of the Boston people in about two hours, so she had time. She smoothed her long hair down, and crossed and uncrossed her legs, trying to not look suspicious or noticeable. There were some men giving her once-overs, and she sighed inwardly. She did not feel like being talked up, not tonight. She was about to push her drink away and hop off the barstool when she realized one of the men looking at her looked awfully, painfully familiar. She put a hand to her mouth and the two of them just stared at each other, Dawson not even noticing as the people he was with continued to talk over glasses of wine. She leaned on the bar awkwardly, and was both relieved and terrified when he excused himself and got up, and walked slowly towards her. Damn, he looked good. Built, still as tall as ever, commanding and handsome, with a new air of confidence in his walk. His sandy blond hair was cut short and spiky, just like he had it in college. A wave of memories washed over her and Joey had to sit down. "Unbelievable," Dawson took her hand and sat down next to her, his blue eyes flashing with warm happiness. "What are you doing here?" "What are *you* doing here?" Joey managed to speak, crossing her legs and squeezing his hand. "The usual," Dawson shrugged. "Movies...money matters." "Conference." Joey smiled. Dawson let go of her hand to signal to the bartender. He asked for a beer. "Wow..." Dawson leaned back so he could look at her properly. "You look fantastic." Joey blushed, as she usually did when he paid her a compliment.  
  
"But you always did look great, didn't you?" *So did you*, Joey said silently, still not able to move her mouth very well. "When was the last time we..." Dawson raised an eyebrow and Joey thought for a moment. "New York...about a year and a half ago. For about two days." "That's right," Dawson murmured, taking a small sip of his beer. "So...how are you?" Joey asked quickly, reaching for her half- finished martini. "Good, actually," Dawson said slowly, his eyes fixated on her slender hand, holding the stem of the glass. "Great." Their eyes met and they spoke silently-- "I missed you..." Their hands lingered near each other before clasping. Joey smiled happily. "Are you busy tonight?" "Me?" Dawson looked over at his co-workers who were looking back at him and Joey suspiciously. "No." **** After another drink, they quietly sneaked out so as to avoid Dawson's friends, who were nosy and would have tried to ask anything they could about Joey, and for tonight, Dawson wanted Joey to be just his. For the first time in long time, he wasn't reminded of Alice, or the pain that went along with not only her death but the pain of his unrequited love for Joey. For the first time, they were on the same level. Quietly thrilled to be in each other's company again, they kept looking at each other as they walked downtown, searching for something new in each other's face, or eyes, or anything...but nothing had really changed. Dawson noted that Joey had gained a few pounds, but it just made her look lovelier. She had always been too thin. When they had made love he had been, more than once, afraid he'd crush her. Ditto whenever they hugged. Her hair was darker, making her eyes greener. she looked elegant in a navy blue pantsuit, a lilac scarf knotted loosely around her neck. She noticed his scrutiny, but didn't mind. he was just caring, and curious. when they reached a crossroad, she fumbled for his hand in the neon glow of the street, and he squeezed her hand, sending happy little fireworks off in her body. She was thrilled he was here with her. she was looking forward to spending the night with him. They were walking down what felt like a familiar street, but neither noticed until they passed the sign that said, "Hell's Kitchen" "Oh my god," Joey laughed, "Its almost exactly the same." The dark, retro stylings, the neon blue sign inside, even the jukebox. "I haven't set foot in this place since...well..." Dawson scrunched his forehead up trying to remember. "Since...that night...?" Joey wondered. She didn't know. Dawson wasn't in Boston much whilst she went to college there, unfortunately. "Probably," Dawson nodded his head at the entrance. "Up for another drink?"  
  
"Yes please," Joey said enthusiastically, holding his elbow and following him into the bar. They were out of place, being in their late twenties and dressed in business attire, but no one seemed to notice or care--it was mostly college kids celebrating the beginning of spring break. Dawson ordered them two rum cokes, a drink they had both liked back when they were teenagers. It was appropriate. "This is so..." Joey waved her hand around searching for a word, "Atmospheric," she finished. "Its like stepping back in time," Dawson agreed, looking around. "I almost expect that song to come on." "It won't," Joey said sadly, "Its like, almost fifteen years old. Its all about rock now." "Better than that rap phase." "True..." " Its so hard to believe..." Joey said softly, "Almost ten years ago...all of us were sitting right there..." she pointed to a table in the middle of the room, "Completely innocent, not having one hint about what was going to happen to all of us." "They were happy days." Dawson agreed, taking a pensive sip of his drink. "Now its all broken," Joey said softly, looking into her drink. "Jen's gone, Pacey and I don't even speak that much...Jack has his life full with Amy, and you and I..." she looked up at his caring face and sighed, "You and I are...in limbo." "We're not broken." Dawson said firmly, taking his hand off his drink and sliding it into Joey's. "We have each other, always. No matter what." "I guess that's kind of true," Joey laughed a little, "Especially after the weird scenarios we've been in." "I know...what's with you and kissing when you're drunk?" He playfully pushed her glass away from her, then gave it a second thought and pushed it back, saying quickly, "Well, drink up." Joey giggled, "You want me to kiss you?" "I always want you to kiss me." **** "We are so bad..." Joey whispered, as she and Dawson hurried past security and ran, breathless, up the green and into Joey's old dorm building. The place was almost half empty, except for those who were left behind to finish examinations. The spring rain was cool and left a damp mist on Dawson and Joey. They raced up the stairs and Joey tried to remember where her old dorm room was, eventually stopping outside it, and pressing her ear against the door. Nothing. She sent Dawson a look, then slowly tugged the doorknob. With incredible luck, it opened. "Oh my god.' Joey's voice almost echoed in the large, empty room. `It's almost exactly the same..." Dawson watched her walk around, dreamy, touching things, feeling the bed, tracing the walls. " My first two years of independence," Joey said distantly. She turned to stare out the window, and something came over Dawson as he watched her, so beautiful, staring out the large crissed- crossed window. He came up behind her, and let his hands smooth up her side. Joey was caught off guard but she didn't move. She closed her eyes, caught in the moment. "Do you remember?" Dawson whispered in her ear, letting her feel his hard- on, "Do you remember me fucking you on that bed over there?" "Yes," Joey whispered. "I remember everything you did to me." "That was a wild night...' Dawson chuckled, his arms going around her front. She rested her hands on his, and stifled a sigh as he lifted her hair and left soft, wet kisses on her neck, making her shiver. "I like to make you react," Dawson whispered. "Its nice I can still make you react." He cupped her breasts, rubbing her nipples between his thumb and forefinger. "Dawson...' Joey said softly, urgently. He got the warning. He turned her around, gripping her by the shoulders. He then kissed her fervently, letting his tongue massage hers. They hadn't kissed for so long. When he pulled away, Joey kept her chin in the air, blindly reaching for more kisses, and was slightly annoyed when she didn't get them. Instead, Dawson was undoing her navy blouse. She let him, doing her own part and unzipping his pants. She would never admit it, but she had missed his penis. It was probably the most perfect one she had ever seen or been with. Typical, really. "Nice bra." Dawson commented, admiring the lacy black bra that looked invitingly sexy. "Victoria Secret. Its a set." "I see," he said, as he let her pantsuit drop to the floor. "Dawson...should we be doing this?" Joey asked, undoing his shirt anyway. "Should...would...could...who cares? Where does it get us? I love you. That's all I know." Dawson said straightforwardly. "I know. Me too." Joey said simply. "But I meant, in a dorm room." "Spring break." he picked her up and she shrieked. He laid her down on the mattress, not the same one (although it might have been) but in the same area it had been almost ten years ago when they had first made love. And now, they were finishing what they started. Joey went to a higher heaven that night, and afterwards lay completely sated after almost an hour of being ravaged by Dawson. It seemed inconceivable she had missed out on so much sex with him. But not anymore. "Dawson..." "Hmmm?" He was lying on his back with a satisfied smile on his face. "Move in with me." Epilogue ~~Pacey~~ Sometimes we call each other, or see each other in Capeside. But not often. Maybe once all six of us were tight and chummy, strong and bountiful, ready to face the world. But once Jen died, the circle did too. Its hard to believe Dawson, Joey and I were once just all on our own, happy with just that, all of us friends. Its hard to imagine life without Jen. We all went out separate ways. And then that fucked up situation between Dawson, Joey and me. The triangle would never die. Joey had been batted back and forth between us. Its fair to say I got most of her, I was her first, I moved in with her, she chose me twice. But now, when I look at them, I realize Dawson got the better deal. He got a part of her I never had, nor never will, touch. All that soul mate stuff. Serves me right for standing in the way of true love. Not to mention they're now married with a baby girl. I'm happy for them...really. Dawson deserves it. he always got the shit stick side of things. Joey and I feels like an ancient tale I'll tell over the dinner table when I'm eighty to embarrassed grandkids. I have a kid too, Lucy, a result from a crazy night with Audrey. Audrey and I are best friends, not romantic. We get each other. Its great to have a kid with her. Lucy is an angel. She's made me become a better man. Jack and Doug broke up--which didn't surprise anyone, really. Doug mopes around. Jack doesn't really go out on much dates, he's too busy raising Jen's daughter, Amy, who is the most beautiful girl in the world, next to my Lucy. Lucy, Amy and Dawson and Joey's girl, Jen, are three girls who will become three incredibly strong, beautiful women. I can see it now. And maybe they'll have a bond their parents once had, but couldn't keep. That's life, I guess. 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